Notes for the convenience of readers: * 'Cerlikh' is when Voldemort was killed. * 'Toulousaine' is the main Wizarding Area of the Southern Alliance, or Sudlan. It is in France, near Toulouse. The Minister for Magic of the Southern Alliance is known as the Dassier, and the Minister for Magic of the Northern Alliance is known as the Dachier. Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.

Warning: There is content in this chapter that can be upsetting for younger readers.

Chapter 36

Harry had found it a real disadvantage to apparate each slave individually. Portkeys had always been closely controlled by the Ministry, the main reason being that they could go so badly wrong, throwing pieces of wizard all over the country. The legend of the 'Berkshire Beast' had originated when a Portkey carrying five people had malfunctioned. So Sunday afternoon, he started to reapply the mask he was beginning to hate. The Resistance was still active, he knew, though the newsletters were irregular, and didn't always contain much information. There had been one the previous day though, clearly stating that the two slave-shops had been burned, the slaves taken, possibly rescued, possibly stolen, and the shop owners killed. And the statement, 'As far as is known, it was nothing to do with the TG.' The Ministry had dubbed them the 'Traitor Group,' and now they'd taken to using the initials. It distanced them from the supposedly law-abiding Women's Resistance.

Again Harry stood quietly in the corner of the large lounge-room on Longbottom Manor, unnoticed under the Cloaking magic. Neville was very active, giving orders, studying maps, and talking to people who came and went, most of them using Portkeys. The floo of course, was Ministry controlled, and there were still many wizards who didn't like apparation. Algernon Croaker, the one who'd made the Portkey for him before, was nowhere to be seen.

Charlie Weasley apparated in, and said to Neville, "It's certain they'll use this as an excuse."

"How's your mother?"

"Devastated. The funeral's tomorrow."

"Did you tell her why?"

"I couldn't, not now."

Neville turned around restlessly, "Why now? It's ruined everything."

"Do you think it was Werner Pilzer?"

"It has to be, doesn't it? He's like a loose hypogryff, stumbling around, messing everything up!"

Charlie mocked, "A little ungrateful aren't you? And I thought you deplored slavery."

"If he's from the Nadlan, - well, they tolerate slaves. I can't understand it. Why would he attack like that?"

"My brothers acted within the law, even if it was a bad law. He killed them. Or someone did. They didn't deserve that."

"If it wasn't that Cuffe was also killed, I'd think it was about something else entirely."

"You never liked them, did you?"

"They didn't deserve to be killed!"

Harry disapparated, feeling in a turmoil again. But they did deserve to be killed. Barnabus Cuffe, the Weasley twins, anyone who kept slaves. Innocent children, taken for rape. And Candy, whom they'd been experimenting on. Those deep scars, - she must have been terribly injured, and then healed. He shook his head. There was no point in second-guessing himself. The slavers were dead, and there was no help at the Longbottoms. Maybe it was lucky he hadn't made himself known. He might have found himself in a fight with Charlie, if not Neville. He should be able to make Portkeys. Surely it couldn't be that difficult.

He half-knew, he'd seen Croaker make one that time, and Voldemort had made them whenever he wanted. He thought about it as he removed and cleaned his mask. His skin was beginning to be very irritated. He'd never suffered much from pimples, the odd one now and then as everyone had, but now his face was a blotchy mess and he wondered if it could be stress as well as the irritation of the mask. Maybe next time, he could simply use a balaclava. Would that be too frightening for the slaves?

Sarah was at the refuge house, re-stocking for the next rescue, but he found her moisturiser for his face before looking over the basement library. So far all the books he'd consulted only listed the dangers of Portkeys, and stated that an experienced and qualified instructor was essential. He persevered, and finally there was something of use - a warning that Muggles had a high mortality rate if any attempt was made to take them by Portkey. Harry shuddered. Fancy arriving with two or three dead children on his hands. There was no help for it. Each slave he found had to be apparated one by one. Even two at a time was too big a risk. If he'd known... He guessed that he was lucky that Muggles didn't die from Apparation. It had never occurred to him. He'd routinely apparated with Sarah for years.

He hugged Sarah very hard when she returned from her day's work. There was no point in refraining from apparation with her now, but he would never have done it if he'd suspected a possible danger. Spells as well. Until he'd asked Poppy about a possible cure for Kevin, years before, he hadn't known that spells were dangerous for Muggles. He'd used an anti-conception spell on each girlfriend at one time, and if he didn't know that Amanda had become pregnant quite soon after leaving him, he would have been far more worried. Healthy children, three of them to his knowledge, so he'd done no harm. All the same, he didn't risk it with Sarah any more. They relied on Muggle contraception.

Sarah was concerned at Harry's face, treated it with moisturiser, and then instructed him to rest in front of the TV with a warm face-washer covering his face. When she checked him after a while, the face-washer had fallen off, and he was asleep. She was very glad he'd agreed not to do any more rescues until the following night, Monday night.

hphphp

Hundreds of people attended the Weasley twins' funeral and many spoke of those qualities that had made them so well-liked, - the fun, their optimistic cheer, their generosity. Fred and George had been very popular. Molly Weasley tried to be brave, but tears shone on her cheeks. She'd lost Arthur, and Ginny was gone with her husband, no-one knew where. And now her precious twin boys, fun-loving, mischievous. Everybody had loved Fred and George. Bill and Charlie stood on either side, quietly supportive.

Percy was there with his wife. Penelope had a slight drag on the left side of her face, and limped when she walked. That was damage from Cerlikh, yet Percy cared about her. He no longer worked at the Ministry, but had a job in the office of a building firm. They had two small sons, safe at home with a babysitter. Bill and Charlie's wives and children were hidden away and so were Ginny and Trevor. Trouble was coming. Percy wanted no part of it. He didn't approve of the Ministry and he didn't approve of rebellion against its law.

Ron and Pansy were present, each wearing the Pure-blood's customary mask of haughty disdain. Underneath, Ron was worried. In the Daily Prophet that morning, there had been reports of the Saturday night burglaries of several well-warded homes. There had been no mention of slaves in the newspaper, but word had spread.

He didn't know if Pansy knew about his pet. If so, she did what every well-bred Pure-blood wife was supposed to do, she ignored it. The girl appealed to him, her bright red hair the same as his own. She had spirit as well, she'd even risked annoying him by complaining of the confinement, but the slave quarters had been there for generations, had all the appropriate wards already in place, and there was no possibility that she might venture where she was not supposed to go. In any case, there were the slave spells. Most of all, she wanted to please her master. He'd been thinking of buying two more girls, maybe one very dark and one very blonde, company for Vivvy, and variety for himself. But the slave-shops were gone, their owners dead, and so was Michael Pettit dead. It was rumoured that he may have been killed because of his cruelty to his slaves, but no-one knew.

Fred and George were gone with their malicious grins and their undeserved popularity and success. Would the unknown night-time burglar come after Vivvy? He hadn't had her for long. Maybe if he obliviated and released her, his home would not be targeted. Maybe he should go to Pansy's bed more often. He still cared for her, though he'd just about given up hope of an heir for the Parkinson line.

hphphp

Minister Pettit was talking to his Chief Auror, Gawain Robards. Robards said, "It has to be the one who took down Azkaban, maybe even the same who was responsible for the 1999 massacre of Vanie."

"Could it be a group of women? Those ex-Auror women for instance?"

"None of them had the power to defeat wards like that."

"It could also be a team from the Southern Alliance. If so, then it can be taken as a declaration of war."

Robards said cautiously, "I suppose it could."

"You have your people in training?"

"Not as many as I'd like, but yes."

"Then start getting them into position and I'll coordinate with Dache Kuhnast."

Arne Kuhnast was the Dachier of the Northern Alliance, and very willing to help bring the Southern Alliance into submission. The division of territories was already decided. Britain would have Belgium and Spain, plus France. Their Ministry was in France. The Northern Alliance would gain several countries including Italy and Holland. There was quite a large Aniragi population in Holland, though hardly any in Italy.

When word came that there would be action within days, the newly promoted hit-wizard glanced over his short list of targets, and decided on priorities. He didn't have much time as he was to be one of those to strike at the Sudlan Ministry, and take down Dasse Portat. The name of Paul Knight, a previously unidentified Muggle-born wizard, was shuffled to the bottom of the pile in favour of those deemed a greater risk to their world. In the two hours he had left before leaving for France, Conroy Landen killed Stewart Rankin, ex-Auror, his Muggle-born wife and their five children. They'd only been located two days before. A reward had been paid to the informant.

hphphp

The Hogwarts school year was soon to begin. There were nineteen new students expected, twelve boys and just five girls. There had been seven girls until a week before, but two enrolments had been cancelled. Slughorn regarded the tattered old hat on the shelf in his office and shook his head. There was no point with so few, and anyway, it worked better if they just separated the boys from the girls. There was such a difference in atmosphere since he'd first arrived to take the position of Potions Master. Then girls would eye the boys, giggle together, maybe flirt. They still eyed the boys, but it was with the look more of prey facing a dangerous opponent. But it was not the boys of their own age they needed to worry about, but all the mature men desperate for an heir. So many of the great houses were in trouble now.

So there would be no Sorting, just that the girls would be housed in the Hufflepuff rooms, with Professor Banning as House Mistress, and the boys in Gryffindor Tower with Professor Landen in charge. He'd wanted them in the old Slytherin quarters, but there seemed to be increasing damp in the dungeons. He shook his head. What was happening to his world? And he went and closed the window. The lake still smelled quite bad.

hphphp

Students for Durmstrang always arrived on a Sunday, so the school term had already begun. The headmaster regarded it as an annoying waste of time that Healer Carlyle insisted on examining all the first years as soon as they arrived, but tolerated it.

Hermione did a thorough diagnostic scan over a plump boy of eleven, and noted that he already appeared to be sterile. There was no telling whether it was a result of one or more of her products or something else. By the time she'd checked the thirty-one new arrivals, she'd only needed her sterilisation spells for two boys, though four of the six girls. The spells to determine fertility were her own invention, a variation of two very old spells she'd found in one of the ancient scrolls in the library. It had been difficult to read with the old-fashioned script, but she'd persevered. When Hermione set her mind to something, she was rarely defeated. She hadn't been able to improve the world of Anirage, but was well on the way to bringing it down. Only the Sudlan was relatively untouched.

hphphp

It was eleven in the morning, the weather was mild, and Harry sat with Kevin overlooking the sea.

Kevin remarked, A big swell. I love it like this, the sun shining, and the waves crashing.

"I'll be going after more slaves tonight. We've set up the house better, but I'm still not allowing Sarah to be seen by any of them."

Would you have known where to go if I hadn't been able to tell you?

"I would have guessed it was wizards, - but I would never have guessed at these particular ones. It might have been weeks or months before I found him. I might never have found him."

And Blue would have been abused by a wizard.

"Yes."

I was of real use then, wasn't I? And now you're rescuing dozens of others.

"I hope I can. Each one is a risk, and they're warned now."

They thought I was useless. They looked at me, and I took care not to look back. They just saw the wreck that's my body, and not me, so they didn't bother trying to make me forget. It makes me happy that I could do that. It's a last real thing. And now it's time. Now, when the others are at school, and it's sunny. I don't want even to be moved again, not when each time it seems to hurt more.

Harry had known it was coming, even had a strong suspicion it was to be today, but still... He'd miss Kevin. Life was hard sometimes. He wanted to do this for him. His friend had endured so long and so much. He said quietly, "You have helped so many of us. Even me. I've told you things I've never told anyone. It helps to tell people sometimes."

And I saved Blue.

"You did."

So I want you to take my hands, not hurt me, but just end it. I want you to do it now please, Lee.

"My real name is Harry Potter."

Lee, will you do it now? Please?

Harry shifted his chair so that it was facing him, took the thin, near-helpless hands in his own, and waited. Kevin twitched his mouth in an attempt at a smile. Now, Lee.

Harry used his magic, and Kevin closed his eyes, then ceased to breathe. A gentle, easy death for his friend who had endured so much. Kevin Stern was gone, and Harry bent his head and cried. Life was too hard. Wicked people thrived, and this courageous young man had suffered and suffered and was now finished.

***chapter end***